Run
by Sora-M-Jigen
Summary: Oneshot. The 11th Doctor and you share something rather unexpected.


Just a drabble to vent some things. I know I keep saying I'm almost done the next chapters for Five Nights at Scooby's and 50 Shades of Armor, but they are almost done. It's mostly life, work, and cosplays that have been holding me back from continuing them, but they will be updated in the future. 

* * *

"Wait, (_), come back! There are angels out there!"

The Doctor was no friend to weeping angels and he watched their stony faces and energy slowly appear on the Tardis console. He had to get you before it was too late. The Weeping Angels were terrifying stone guardians who would show no remorse in sending you back to the past and eating everything that you could have been. They were something the Doctor feared greatly as he stared into the blizzard just outside his Tardis. Thick trees temporarily tricked him into believing they were angels on the prowl for you. Quickly adjusting his bow tie, the Doctor gripped his sonic and tore into the snow ridden forest. He had just lost two of his closest friends to these unforgiving monstrosities and he was damned if he'd lose you too.

He listened for any sort of sound – the quiet shuffling of the angels, your heavy breathing, your sprint, but nothing arose to his ears and he found this incredibly alarming. The angels were quick, yes, but he had seen you run. By no means were you a cheetah or some supersonic being, but you were fast. He followed your footsteps as best as he could before the snow could steal them.

He wasn't sure as to what happened, honestly. The one moment you two were talking about the distant planet of Ramil and how they celebrated its founding through spectacular stunts crafted by their ancestors and thousands of burning mandalas, each one bearing a different symbol for the planet and people's prosperity. It was a wondrous sight to behold, yet he noticed you grew tense as he spoke. He tried to call your name, but you murmured a quick response of "I'mokay." He didn't believe that. The Doctor neared you, his eyes warily watching you with his voice changing to a soft tone that kept with the topic at hand. You still seemed unfazed by Ramil, your head bowed and your body shaking some, desperately seeking air. Before he could near you and perhaps pull you into a hug, your head darted up with your eyes swirling with some fear caused by an unknown internal force. He had never seen this before and his eyes grew wide with wariness and concern. Demanding that you needed air, the Doctor pulled over to the nearest planet within the Tardis' reach. Ignoring the signs of life that bleeped on the Tardis' radar, he was focused on you more as your knees shook some and you murmured some mantra of "I'mokay,I'mokay,I'mokay". Your lungs still grasped for air and no sooner the brake was thrown you bolted for the door, not caring where you escaped to.

You didn't hear his warning, your eyes on the ground with no intention of running until you could stop the words in your head. Every step of crunching snow seemed to drown out their negative comments and you relished in the sound. It reminded you of childhood days of playing in the snow until it was dinner time or until you were too tired to move. You know abandoning the Doctor was a bad choice, but you needed to run and clear your head or at least drown out the words.

From the corner of your eye though, you suddenly questioned your decision to bolt. The Tardis seemed father than ever and you swore the forest was the same no matter where you looked. All the trees seemed to stand with the same branches clinging to their trunk, each one masking a face of stony anger glaring at you like a starved shark. Faces in the snow – no, no, not snowmen or deer or something harmless. They were faces you had seen before. You didn't like these faces and as much as you wanted to stop and possibly collect yourself, you knew you had to keep running because that's what the Doctor would have wanted you to do.

Regret washed over you and with it more negativity jumbled in your mind. 'You're going to die,''Doesn't matter, you're nothing special,''Everyone lives, everyone dies, you're nothing important,' 'You should let the angels get you' – your eyes widened in particular at that thought in knowing what the angels had done to Amy and Rory, the two people who stole the Doctor's hearts without abandon. 'You'll get a better life, you'll never even exist, you won't have to contend with this anymore, you'll be free from your troubles, your anxieties, everything. You'll be a free (_)'.

You sucked in your breath, your body trembling some. Your mind was right, but you knew the Doctor wouldn't allow you to do anything like that. Yet the Doctor was nowhere in sight. The idea had never occurred to you before, but the pain would be eliminated from the demons howling in your head. What a relief that would be. No anxieties, no negativity, nothing to give you any sort of trouble. It would be pure bliss, a pure haven, an escape from-

"(_)!"

Through the whipping wind you heard him. His voice was faint, obstructed by the wind, but it was there. It pierced the sudden notion to give yourself over to the angels.

"(_)! Where are you?!"

Would it really be such a good thing to allow the angels to take you away? To eat up all your possibilities? To be away from the Doctor?

It would be unwise to shut him out, especially knowing him. You and the Doctor had seen stranger things – anxiety attacks probably were no different. Yet you saw how wide and worried his eyes were when you demanded air on the Tardis. You had seen those eyes before though on distant planets and in far flung adventures. There were other aliens who had immeasurable problems that only the Doctor could seemingly fix. This was different, this was raw and humiliating and you knew this. This was your armor dropped, your walls obliterated, your heart being bared at the most on your sleeves. This couldn't be cured with the wave of a sonic screwdriver. This was-

"(_)! Please!" The Doctor's voice seemed louder now, as though straining his very lungs to scream. "I want to help you!"

He was always there. He would always be there. Even if you tried to push him away, he would always return. The Doctor was like that and you couldn't deny that fact. You dared not look up, petrified at the anxiety still ringing in your head and bones, but also the unshakable what if of a weeping angel (or two or even more) closing in on you. Your feet dared not move and your legs trembled weakly, the attack and exhaustion from running taking their toll.

You couldn't give in to these angels, the Doctor would never want you to, and maybe you didn't want to. Perhaps it was in knowing that the Doctor wanted to help you and would possibly be different than people telling you to 'snap out of it' or 'stop it' as if you could control your attacks. No one could control the beast that possessed you and harbored inside your mind. No one seemed to realize that, no matter how many times you told them. Maybe that's why you stopped telling people and decided to shut it away. Would the Doctor be different though despite his concern? The angels bore no solace just like everyone else that discovered your attacks and if anything, the Doctor seemed warmer than their cold faces and menacing features.

"Doctor," you mumbled beneath your breath. Your fingernails sunk into your forearms as you shivered from a rude gust of wind. Your voice was soft, your dry mouth and throat blocking any sound.

"Doctor!" You tried again, a bit louder. Nothing. You reeled on your heels and you could feel the snow pressing against your knees. When did it get so high?

"Doc-"

"(_), LOOK OUT!" A familiar voice boomed to your left and you felt yourself being tackled into the snow, the fallen flakes giving way to your weight and the person who hurriedly put you out of harm's way.

You knew that voice and your body seemed to tremble less. You weren't sure if it was from the anxiety or the snow, but you knew it helped.

"Doctor?"

"(_), are you okay?" His focus rested heavily on the eyes of the angels who stared at him with all the hatred in the universe. You allowed him to concentrate, your own eyes gazing upward and meeting with their stony orbs. You knew how the angels were and that the only thing stopping them was a staring contest.

"Doctor, I'm-"

"We need to get out of here." The Doctor's voice was firm. He tried to make it as gentle as possible, but his sternness was apparent. You understood entirely, your eyes never leaving the angels.

Offering his hand, you took it with shaking fingers. Quickly rising, he pulled you up with him. Your forehead collided with his chest, breaking your stare with the weeping angel. The Doctor had his hands full now, his eyes darting between both angels as he knew that there were probably others just behind him. Looking over his shoulder, you locked eyes with the monstrosities and he smirked. Raising his sonic to the snowy sky, a familiar sound echoed through the trees and in your ears. His eyes shifted between angels, his grip on you tightening some as he pulled you closer to his chest.

It couldn't appear fast enough. The angels slowly faded as a room you knew all too well began to take form. The warm orange walls welcomed you as a tall structure connected to the console, radiating a serene neon blue. The controls and floor radiated the same shade amongst odds and ends scattered throughout the craft. It was a relieving sight to see despite your body still mildly shaking from the attack and the cold.

The Doctor hurriedly sat you down in the pilot's chair as he threw a few switches. Pulling a lever, the brakes were released and the Tardis hummed. Watching the angels on the monitor, the Doctor bit his lip – the angels had claimed the phone box once before, he couldn't risk it again. Their angry visages gave way to darkness and swirling stars in a quick amount of time as he beamed excitedly. He was proud of his old blue box and throwing another lever, he felt the Tardis ease, casually floating through space.

"Doctor, I'm sorry." His grin gave way to concern, his wide worried eyes falling on you once more and recalling everything that had occurred. Quickly sitting beside you on the chair, he watched your still movements as only your fingers seemed to shiver and your shoulders slowly rose and fell.

The Doctor would have taken on the role of a parent in this moment. Scolding you and warning you to not scare him again like this in the future. Yet he saw how defeat dominated you from your run and your mind. He had never seen you like this before as he felt his hearts beat thrum, like the wings of a hummingbird needing to keep afloat.

"I-I know not to r-r-run. But," you fumbled over your words, quietly cursing yourself. "I needed to."

The Doctor knew he had to ask, yet was almost hesitant to do so. Swallowing his concern, his eyes softened and he gazed at your bothered eyes.

"Why?"

"Doctor, I-I…I have some demons I'm running from."

In that moment he swore he felt his hearts stop. He swore he felt time stop. He swore he even felt his breathing come to a halt as he looked at you with all the understanding he could ever muster. Oh how the Doctor knew what it was like to run from demons. He had more demons than anyone he ever knew and he acknowledged that he would never fully escape those demons. That they would haunt him for endless nights of sleep (perhaps it was why he felt the need to constantly be awake and doing things), they would creep up on him in his times of doubt, that they would crawl into his hearts in his adventures when they grew unbelievably dim, and how they would make his spine shiver any time someone ever spoke of them. How terribly he hated them, but he knew he had to accept them as a part of himself, as a part of the Doctor.

Yet, he supposed, there were good things about being the Doctor. The Doctor was always there to help, to possibly heal another planet or person of their suffering. While he couldn't do much for you, not knowing what the demons were that shrieked in your head and made you shake, he knew he could do everything possible to make you feel better. That's what Doctors were for, right?

His skinny fingers immediately reached out to your shoulders and pulled you into a tight embrace, forcing you to break your hands from gripping your forearms. Holding you as close as possible to him, you heard how fast his hearts pitter pattered.

"(_)," he started, uncertain as to how the words would tumble from his mouth. "We all have demons to face."

"They're so hard to fight sometimes." You murmured against his shoulder and you felt him grow closer to you.

"I know. Believe me, I know."

"You do?"

"Yes, (_). Why do you think I'm always running?"

"Because we're trying not to die?"

"Other than that."

The Doctor fell silent. This was the part he always hated. He was always met with acceptance from companions, but hesitation still restrained him from spilling his soul to them. The fear that would build from his own anxieties of being abandoned or shunned by those who travelled the stars with him would haunt him sometimes. Yet he knew for this situation, he had to relate to you in some fashion further proving his point that everyone had demons. While the things he had endured were probably nothing you would ever face, he had to at least make you understand that you were never nor would you be alone.

"I've watched my own people fall and ran from the war that brought about their end. I've exposed forbidden secrets to parasitic monstrosities and died for those I've loved. I've lost…," he paused, swallowing hard. "I've lost so much and sometimes I still see them as memories in my mind – all I have left of them."

"Doctor-"

"I've walked through lands where unimaginable beasts reigned and watched time collapse. I've watched people die for me, heh, me, an old man with a blue box trying to help them." His tone was bittersweet as though quietly mourning those who didn't need to die for him, but did so anyway for their own reason or for the sake of the Doctor, their savior and leader. You tightened your embrace and he leaned into it, his grip never once slipping on you.

"So please," The Doctor faltered for a moment as he quickly caught himself, not wanting to make you worry. His fingers broke form your back and raced to your face, cupping your cheeks rather gently. Your eyes met with his', soft brown boyish orbs that glistened as though he were conveying a secret or perhaps, preventing tears from falling. "Please understand, (_), I know what it's like to have demons. Trust me, you are never alone in this."

"But how…..," you started, still processing this knowledge. Your mind racing at the wondrous and terrifying experiences he endured and trying to comprehend everything based on what you had seen so far. If he could look into your mind he would see your imagination running wild at the beasts you thought of that he possibly faced off against. It would baffle him and you knew he loved being dumbfounded because it allowed reason to fail and new thoughts to bloom, as nonsensical as they were. Gripping his wrists softly to reassure your grasp on reality and the welling feeling of relief in your chest, you locked eyes with the Doctor.

"How do you cope with them?" Your voice was spellbound from the mere glimpse into the Doctor's life.

"Run."

You had heard that word many times before in your adventures and all this time you believed it to be an action to help you flee from monsters physically chasing you. You never assumed it wouldn't be more than just a simple tactic, but now it resonated even deeper. Running would not only serve as an escape from strange beings, but also the demons in your heads. Your fingers loosened for a moment, everything resonating within you. The thoughts of possible terrors, the sudden more meaningfulness of such a simple word, and the Doctor understanding you stirred within you, causing weightlessness to burst in your chest. You swore you could hear the Doctor's hearts thrumming as he watched you run your fingertips down to his shoulders as you pulled him close for a hug, not wanting to let go.

Fish fingers and custard would sometimes quell his anxious hearts, but at the recent loss of Amy and Rory, the Doctor knew that that delectable meal would bring only sadness. Sadness was the last thing you both needed and instead he had the Tardis make you both a rather lovely chocolate cake and a good pot of tea. Reclining and snacking on the pilot's seat, the Doctor regaled you with his adventures for what seemed like hours. Those wondrous stories stole your mind from your anxieties and helped you understand not only the Doctor, but most of time and space.


End file.
